Last Soldier Standing
by SirMandokarla
Summary: SWTOR: The Legacy. Private Azeel will one day become a hero of the Republic, but before she can do that, she has to live long enough to ever hear the name, "Havoc Squad".
BOOOM!

The jolt of adrenaline was welcome; PSC Azeel had finished her second wind half an hour back.

"RUN," Sarge bellowed over the explosions, the screams, and the roar of fighter engines.

Azeel ran. When PSC Vess stumbled, gasping for breath, she grabbed him and pulled him along, too. They'd come too far to leave him behind now.

All around her, members of her training squad ran for their lives, and many of them weren't making it. Ina dropped beside her. Azeel would never hear her singing voice again. She had to leap over some of Rence's remains; he'd never play another boot camp prank with her again.

An Imperial fighter blasted the ground meters from her feet, and the blast deafened her. Vess was pulled from her arms and she went tumbling down a grassy hill. She came to a stop on top of Yvel's corpse. Instinctively, she tried to stand up, but she couldn't even tell where up was anymore. She tripped over Yvel, who would have had some impressive profanity ready for her if he'd still been alive.

Somebody grabbed her and pulled her up, half-carrying her further through the field of death. She couldn't hear anything, couldn't focus properly on anything, but she did her best to make sure one foot went in front of the other.

Before she knew it, she was standing in darkness, and the bombing was dying down.

 _The caves_ , she thought numbly, _we made it._

With that thought, she promptly lost consciousness.

When she awoke, Azeel's head hurt more than any hangover she'd ever had, and her eyes hurt from sunlight's glare.

"She's awake," Vess exulted, "Sarge, come here, she's awake!"

"Stars, that girl is tough," Seras muttered.

"Outta the way, kid, outta the way," Sarge rumbled. "Let's see."

A big cathar man filled her vision, dressed in Republic drill sergeant's white and grey.

"Alright, greenie, we need you up and about," he said, "why don't you get started on some o' that Jedi stuff, we'll be on our way 'fore you can suit up?"

Azeel nodded, and that hurt, so she gritted her teeth and sat up. Her head swam like Manaan's oceans, but she kept her eyes open and controlled her breathing. After a few moments, she slowly closed her eyes, slipping into well-practiced meditation.

The cave wasn't all that deep, perhaps twenty metres or so into the mountain, plus whatever smaller cracks filled the place. At least it had been deep enough to escape the Imperial bombers.

There were four others in the cave with her. Sarge, Vess, Seras, and Reast. There had been forty in their unit in boot camp, before the planet had been invaded.

"Just glad it was her that got hit," Seras said, arms crossed and glaring at the Mirialan woman.

"You take that back!" Vess whirled on Seras, enraged. He grabbed her and pulled her to himself, oblivious that he was a head shorter than her.

"Get off," Seras sneered, pushing the little human away. "I just meant at least she can heal. Stupid jedi tricks've made this whole nightmare easy for her, everybody else just got tired and died out there today!"

"Shut up, soldiers," Sarge called from the cave entrance, keeping watch on the skies outside. "Even if we did lose the Imps, I'd rather my own troops not kill each other on the way to the rendezvous. And we still have to be careful the Imps don't find us when they come to check the bodies."

"They probably won't bother," Vess theorized, "taking over a whole planet requires troops at major population centers, especially air superiority to intimidate the local populace. Most generals wouldn't bother wasting the manpower."

"You're right, runt," Sarge admitted, "but do you wanna bet our lives that the Imps are keeping a low enough profile that won't have forces to spare looking?"

Vess went silent, and it was clear Seras would have said something if Reast hadn't moved between the two. Silent or not, a Trandoshan makes a good peacemaker standing between two humans.

After only a few minutes, Azeel opened her eyes.

"I'm feeling better," she said.

Sarge turned from the entrance, giving a glare to keep Vess from rushing the recovering concussion case. "Good. Wasn't sure what surprised me more back there, you surviving that blast or Vess dragging you all the way here. We're moving on now. Day or not, we can't risk staying, so we better hope the mountains will give us enough cover to make it safely across to evac."

Azeel gave a nod and smile to Vess, who grinned back, then stood up smoothly.

"Never a minute's rest, huh Sarge?"

"By my count," Sarge countered gruffly, "you've been out for about four hours, and sitting around for five minutes. Now get your well-rested ass in line."

Azeel shrugged, then moved into position, with Seras growling none-too-subtly beside Vess.

Not one to mince words, Sarge just rumbled, "move out," and they were off.

Outside of the cave, dozens of bodies were scattered. They skirted the carnage, turning towards the cliff face and following it until a likely path appeared. Sarge grumbled something about a map, then led the way up.

While they were picking their way over what only the most charitable of souls might call a trail, Azeel took her chance to thank Vess. He didn't say anything in response, but she knew he was just saving his strength. He was good about that. Knew his limits, tended to ration his strength. They'd all underestimated the senator's son in those first few days, but he'd proved he could almost hold his own with them. He packed a lot of willpower into that little body.

Azeel looked back a few times on their way up, over that first set of mountains. Green hills stretched as far as the eye could see, with patches of forest here and there. They'd made it most of the way from the training camp, almost three days' march, by sticking to those forests as much as possible. The Imp invasion force had caught them on the last stretch to the mountains, and…

Azeel gritted her teeth, promising herself she'd be back to reclaim this planet one day. Alone, if necessary.

It wasn't long before the sheer rocky terrain gave way to sheltered forest. It was still mountainous, but at least they had shelter from skyborne patrols. The terrain seemed to do wonders for Reast's mood, too.

Hours after that, it was Azeel who finally asked, "are we there yet?"

She could _hear_ Sarge scowl ahead of her, and he said, "depending on patrols, we should arrive in the early morning tomorrow."

Well, there was nothing for it, then.

Azeel turned to her only surviving friend and started up a conversation. "So, enjoying the great outdoors, Vess?"

He raised an eyebrow at her and she grinned, flicking an auburn lock out of her eyes.

"Better views than back home," he admitted eventually. "We don't have so much in the way of green."

Azeel batted her eyelashes playfully. "I do brighten up the atmosphere, don't I?"

Vess blushed and cleared his throat, "well, ah, yes, but I didn't exactly mean -"

"Don't worry about it, Vess," she interrupted before Seras could start another fight. "You don't have to take it all so seriously."

"Er, no, of course not," Vess agreed. He went back to diligently watching his step.

They reached the rendezvous after a long night's walking, only an hour after dawn, with no sign of patrols. At first, it seemed like they might make it off-planet in perfect safety, but Sarge raised a hand for them to halt when he heard activity through the trees.

The group came up short at Sarge's signal. Silently, they spread out and took cover.

Sarge peeked around the tree he'd picked, then whispered, "seven."

Reast growled quietly, attracting their attention, then gestured back the way they'd come. The formed up and followed him to a depression sheltered by a boulder. It didn't allow for an easy lookout, but if Reast thought it'd be a good hiding spot, nobody but Sarge was really qualified to argue.

Huddled together behind the rock, the days of travel showed on everyone's face, even Azeel's.

"Inventory," Sarge said.

At first glance, nobody had anything on them. They'd fled boot camp with a bare minimum of supplies and the clothes on their backs. They'd had to put to the test every trick they'd learned, scavenging for food in the wilderness, and it hadn't been pretty. It seemed they'd lost everything in the trek, and none of them had eaten since noon the previous day.

Then Seras pulled a hairpin out of her hair. It probably wasn't useful, but it raised their spirits just a little. There was something about that level of desperation, like a story where the heroes always managed to cobble together exactly what they needed at the last second.

Vess shifted where he crouched, pulling out a depleted blaster clip from one of his pockets. His lips quirked upwards slightly. "I guess I forgot it."

Reast pulled a blade from his boot. Just the blade, perhaps fifteen centimeters long, with no handle or anything. Sarge looked at Azeel, who shrugged, pulling out a roll of bandages.

Sarge himself had nothing. In spite of initially being the most prepared, with a ready-bag of survival tools, meds, and food, everything had been used or lost as they'd traveled.

"Right," he rumbled, "one grenade, one shiv, one boo-boo fix. We'll need to get a better look at that LZ."

Vess looked a little surprised, then realized his "depleted" cell probably still had enough charge for at least a flashbang, with a bit of fiddling from the hairpin and shiv.

"I might be able to grab some stuff," Azeel offered. "You know, Jedi style."

"You can do that?"

Vess stared at the mirialan, and Sarge gave her a look that said she'd better not be exaggerating.

For once, the PSC looked less than perfectly confident, unable to meet her NCO's gaze.

"Sometimes," she mumbled. "If there's nothing distracting me. And I don't need to move it fast… or far. I mean, they took my sister without me for a reason."

Seras looked particularly annoyed, then snorted. "Better than nothing," she conceded. "I'll see what I can do about getting a better look, eh Sarge?"

Sarge nodded. "Reast, go with her. You've got the better eyes. I'll circle around the other way, make sure we've got a good idea what's up. Vess, Azeel, you stay here. We don't need you tromping around, setting the Imps off early. See what you can do about getting that clip fixed."

Then he was off, and Vess and Azeel were alone in their little hidey-hole, waiting.

"I can do more than just break stuff," Azeel muttered petulantly. "That one time in Stealth Ops proves nothing. Could've happened to anyone. Besides, it got the job done, didn't it?"

Vess paid very close attention to the blaster pack he was working with. Rigging it to explode at just the right time was delicate work. Plenty of reason not to carry on a conversation.

Azeel peered out from their hideout, making sure no black-armoured Imperials managed to sneak up on them. It'd be just her luck if Sarge and the others got back to find she'd let herself and Vess get captured. She'd never hear the end of that.

"I could have scouted if they needed it. What if Sarge needs backup? At least Reast and Seras are together. If Sarge gets caught… I should be with him. I bet we could catch a patrol, steal a gun or something. Then we'd have a fighting chance."

Vess stayed silent.

"I'm just saying," Azeel continued, poking her head around the other side of the boulder, "we're in the safest place we could be, and it's because they don't think we can help."

Suddenly, the staccato sound of blaster fire cut through Azeel's monologue.

"Sarlacc's dung-covered tentacle," Azeel swore. "C'mon, Vess, that was Seras and Reast's area!"

Vess leapt up, holding the makeshift grenade close, and ran after Azeel, who was already sprinting through the forest towards the sound of the blaster fire.

Seras and Reast hadn't made it far. Barely a hundred meters away, they saw the first soldier circling around their comrades' position. Both were slowly being surrounded, five soldiers clearly visible coming around either side from the camp.

Azeel didn't hesitate, didn't slow, just ran straight at the back of the soldier closest to her, grabbed him, and snapped his neck.

"RUN," she roared at the human and trandoshan. She pulled the blaster rifle from the Imperial's hands and opened fire on the soldier nearest to her.

"Grenade," yelled Vess, and the Imperial disappeared in a flash of red energy.

More soldiers were coming from the camp, and Azeel could already barely peek around the tree she was using for cover, for fear of taking a blaster bolt between the eyes.

She glanced around and saw Seras and Reast making a break for it, right in her direction. Hugging the tree, she fired blindly at the Imperial soldiers behind them and towards the camp.

It wasn't enough. Reast went down first, taking several blaster bolts for Seras before collapsing to the ground. Then Seras was hit, falling only a few meters from Azeel.

Then the sound of blaster fire from the camp distracted the Imperials, and some of them turned away.

Vess was trying to reach the Imp he'd killed with his IED, maybe get his gun. Azeel did her best to cover him, taking down another Imperial in the bargain. Blaster fire lit up the camp, the sound of ricocheting bolts must have meant Sarge was taking cover on the opposite side of the camp.

Then Azeel took a blaster bolt to the leg. The smells of ozone and scorched flesh filled the air, and she cried out, then grit her teeth and tried to focus past the pain.

"Vess!" Her friend turned to her just in time to catch the blaster she'd thrown him. Unable to do more than kneel, she grabbed the single standard-issue grenade on her Imperial's corpse, primed it, and threw it in the direction she'd been shot from.

The noise from the camp died off, meaning Sarge was dead. Vess tried to make his way back to her, darting between trees and covering his own retreat with haphazard shots at the Imps.

 _He's doing a lot better than boot camp,_ Azeel thought hazily through oncoming shock. _I guess he'd've made a good soldier after all. Heh. Never doubted it for a second._

"Come on, Azeel," Vess urged her, grabbing onto her shoulders. She pushed him away.

"Get out of here, you idiot man!" Imperials were closing in. He had seconds to run, if that. "You're going to die here with me if you -"

Vess was yelling over her, "I've carried you once, I'll -"

Both of them were drowned out by a series of explosions. Not from the camp, but coming around it, circling towards them through the trees. Imperials screamed and trees shattered under the hail of destruction. Even when it subsided, more blaster fire filled the air, and the few Imps Azeel could see dropped like flies.

Vess stood over her, facing whatever was coming.

A human woman walked out of the forest, clad head to toe in heavy armour, a massive breastplate and thick greaves mismatched in colour with a helmet that covered her hair but left her face conspicuously visible.

She'd spotted Vess, too, and called out, "Republic?"

Vess took a firing stance, and the woman raised her hands but didn't drop the blaster pistol she was holding.

"We're Republic," he confirmed. "Who are you?"

"Just a concerned citizen," she replied easily.

Azeel snorted.

"Are these your friends," the armoured woman asked, tilting her head towards Reast and Seras.

Vess nodded, then tried to make his way to them without taking his eyes off the woman. She sighed and said, "kid, if I wanted you dead, I'd've dropped you the second you pulled that gun on me. Now make sure your friends are dead. Was there anyone else here?"

Vess was not encouraged by the comment, and didn't take his gun off the woman. Finally, she dropped her hands and turned towards the landing pad, seemingly unconcerned that a nervous Republic soldier had her in his sights.

"I'm going to check the camp," she called. "Bring that green girl over when you're ready. Blockade's not finished, so you should be able to slip past the Imperial fleet without much trouble. One of you can fly, right?"

As she passed out of sight into the camp, Vess ran to Seras and Reast, but could do nothing but confirm they were dead, just like the mysterious woman had said. He returned to Azeel, picked her up, and started carrying her to the landing area.

"Who the flying kath pups are you, then," Azeel said when they spotted the armoured woman again.

Now that they could see her clearly, she was a pale woman with charcoal-black hair. Even in the middle of the smoking camp, eyes flashed a playful sapphire blue.

"Name's Aqura," she said, holstering her gun and holding out a hand to them. When Vess had shaken her right, she switched hands and shook with Azeel. "Looks like you two are the only survivors. I'm sorry about that."

Oddly, she did actually look guilty, unable to meet Vess or Azeel's eyes.

"You saved our lives," Azeel exclaimed, raising an eyebrow at the woman. "What're you sorry for?"

"Right," Aqura agreed hesitantly. "Never mind. You'd better get out of here before the Imps realize their ambush failed."

Vess nodded his agreement. He and Azeel hobbled towards one of the ships in the camp, a small ship barely big enough for a hyperdrive.

As they bid Aqura farewell, Azeel noticed a long scar over her right eye.

 _There has to be a story there,_ she thought, remembering her sister's scars and the sad tale they told.

Vess piloted the ship away, and Azeel watched the woman who'd saved their lives stroll off into the forest, seemingly without a care in the world.


End file.
